


Reverberation

by AHumanoidBagOfChips



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanoidBagOfChips/pseuds/AHumanoidBagOfChips
Summary: Dave has Nightmares about the game. Bro is here to help.
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider & Dave Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider & Davesprite
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Reverberation

Bro got stabbed. He got stabbed straight through the fucking chest, pinned to the ground by his own sword. The unbridled terror on your brothers face is out there now for the whole goddamn medium to see. He tries to yank the sword out of his own body and fails horribly, coughing and sputtering so bad you almost want to cough yourself sympathetically. You have to stop him before he can hurt himself more, grabbing his hands and holding them close so he doesn't try to move the misplaced object again. This is so foreign to you, your bro doesn't get scared, he doesn't feel fear because he could crush god if he really wanted to. Well it turns out that he couldn't crush god actually, considering how he just got taken out by one- No, you can't let yourself think like that! He's gonna be fine, it's your bro after all. He's gonna be just fine. 

You thought he'd at least try to pull his hands away and attempt to rip the sword out again, but after he looks at you and sees how afraid you are he just.. gives up. It's an absolutely horrifying thing to see, the blood pooling underneath him, the color draining from his body as it does. The grip you have on his hands gets tighter as you begin to shake, and you can start to feel the faint yet rapid pulse of his failing heart beneath his fingers. You're trying so fucking hard not to cry, you don't want him to see you cry, you haven't cried in front of your bro since you were like five years old. He's staring at you, trying to push down that panic he's feeling, you can tell because the look on his face changes.

He's smiling.

That sweet, comforting smile that he used to give you when you were little and you would have a bad dream, or get scared by thunder, or when you got badly hurt during a strife. He would smile just like that and tell you that it was going to be ok.

"Hey, little man.",

Oh god.

"It's gonna be ok.",

God no. This is not happening. This is not fucking happening.

"You're a big kid Dave I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. I'm pretty banged up.",

No no no no no no no no! He's fine! He's gonna be fine!

"Sorry I lost my cool for a sec there. I-", Bro's words are punctuated by another gut twisting retch, followed by a downright stupid amount of blood getting expelled from his mouth. You jump, not even finding the courage to say something. His head lolls to the side, he's struggling just to get air in his lungs at this point. 

"Ok.. Ok let's just.. cut the shit and get to the point. I'm dyin.",

That confirmation, the finality of that statement is what inevitably breaks the dam. You try to hide the tears by burying your face in bro's shoulder, letting go of both his hands in the rush to cover yourself. He barely has enough strength left in him to to keep his eyes open, but he still tries his best to wrap his newly freed arms around you. Leave it to bro to give one-hundred and ten percent even on his death bed.

"C'mon kid.. you're strong... you can get through this.",

No. He's wrong about you. You're not strong, you can't do this, you can't play this fucking game without him here.

"It's ok to cry Dave. Yain't any weaker for it.",

After he says that you just fucking lose it. You start ranting and rambling and scream-sobbing at your bro. Your chest becomes tight and it feels like every part of you is breaking all at once. Somewhere in your tirade you start spouting how much you need him, how much you love him, and for a second you're scared he'll reject your love because it's gay and stupid and childish for you to not wanna lose your big brother.

But he just tells you he loves you too, and how proud he is of you.

And that's it.

He stops breathing.

|||

Four a.m.. Obviously, the best time to be awake and, similarly, also the best time to watch colorful cartoon ponies battle against tyrany with the power of friendship. Ok, so your alternate universe teen self's memories might have convinced you to binge watch My Little Pony, and you might have fucked up and actually love it now. It's a good thing you work from home because holy shit are these horses captivating, you started watching this at ten p.m.! You're gonna knock this show out in the next week if you keep going at it like this.

Just as your favorite character, Rainbow Dash makes her appearance in the newest episode that you've started, a loud thud redirects your attention to the hallway. You're on your feet in seconds, and shortly thereafter you hear a crash, it sounds like it's coming from Dave's room. If this is what you think it is it means Dave had another nightmare, it's been happening consistently ever since the game ended. Dave has the memories of hundreds of doomed versions of himself constantly swarming around inside his brain all the time, you yourself inherited all of your teen self's memories but you still couldn't possibly understand. You definitely died, you know that, but you didn't die even a fraction as many times as he did. It's understandable that he can't seem to shake the bad dreams.

As fast as you can you make your way to your little brother's room. You open the door slowly, being careful not to spook him anymore than he probably is. Once you get inside it's an absolute wreck, dresser's been knocked over and the TV is completely shattered, you make a mental note to buy him a better, bigger one later this week. Dave is the most disheveled thing in the room though, huddled up in the corner next to all the broken glass, it looks like he got cut up pretty bad, must've broke it with his fists.

You waste no time crouching down in front of him.

"Hey.",

He curls further in on himself, covering his head with his bloodied, damaged arms. You want to start bawling right then and there, but you gotta keep it under control for his sake. You look a little closer and notice that he's trembling, you can't hear him breathing but from the way his back is rising and falling you know enough to determine that he's probably hyperventilating and just trying to hide it.

"Dave, bro. Look at me.",

"No",

No? Fuck. You know where this is going. You try to touch him, grab his shoulder, he flinches away at first but when you try again with both hands he relaxes a little.

"Why not little man?",

You already know the answer, it's the same dream he had every night last week. And the week before. This recurring one that you thought he'd finally kicked. The one where Jack Noir kills you. You push away some stray glass on the floor and sit down on your knees, pulling Dave against your chest.

"You're not real.",

He thinks you're dead.

"I am Dave. Promise you this kickass bod is the real fuckin thing.",

He doesn't respond to your joke. It's ok, you didn't expect him too. You wrap your arms around Dave's quivering body, entangling one of your hands in his hair and rocking him gently.

"You died. I saw y-you die.",

"I know you did. It happened man, it really did, but it ain't happenin anymore. The game is over, all your friends are alive, all their gaurdians are alive, I'm alive. It's aaaaall over.",

"How am I supposed to believe you?",

Seems like words can't convince him this time so you maneuver his head, making sure his ear is placed firmly against the center of your chest. 

"Heart's still beatin kiddo..",

He freezes, doesn't want to let himself believe it. You just hold him close, let him figure it out, and when he does you let him cry it out in front of you. 

These nightmares aren't going away any time soon and you don't know how many more nights are going to be like this, but you'll be here for him. You'll be here to calm him down, to patch up the cuts, to convince him that this is real. You'll do anything you can to make him ok again, even if it means you have to do this every night for the rest of your lives. He's your brother, and you are not gonna lose him. Fuck that game and fuck Jack Noir and fuck literally all of the doomed Daves. You're gonna make this ok. You're here now. Dave is gonna be ok now because you're here to keep him safe.


End file.
